


Three Views From a Snowstorm.

by lightningwaltz



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Competence Kink, Friendship/Love, Gen, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/pseuds/lightningwaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shinsengumi cope with an unexpected snowstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Views From a Snowstorm.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hakuouki Secret Santa Exchange on tumblr! My recipient, Sorayomi, asked for fic that showed the Shinsengumi trying to keep warm during a snowstorm. She also indicated a preference for Saito and Hijikata POVs and I was more than happy to write that, too! This was a fun fic to write, and I hope you have a great holiday season, Sorayomi!

The first few moments of snowfall were a delightful flurry. It was different, and beautiful, and solitude out here was nothing like solitude in her room. Chizuru stood in the courtyard (no one could object to her presence here, right?) and watched silvery-white flakes melt in her cupped hands. But the precipitation fell, and fell, and fell. Instead of melting over slippery stones and damp wooden walls, it collected into a thick sheets. She heard the click-click-click of her teeth chattering, and each increment of snow added layers to her apprehension.

She turned around, and nearly collided with Hijikata. For someone so adept at raising his voice, be could be very surreptitious. 

_I didn’t cause this!_ Absurdly, this was the first thing she thought to say. She knew what Hijikata looked like when he enjoyed a snowfall, and that thoughtful glower was nothing like it.

“It’s getting pretty bad, isn’t it?” 

By now Chizuru could no longer feel her toes. It was the kind of coldness that made a person swear up and down that they would never set go outside ever again. 

“It seems like it is. I don’t think it’s going to stop any time soon, either.” Her voice was harsh and reedy, like someone try to laugh off the pain of a cut or a burn. Or like all the air in her body had crystallized. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are _you_ sorry?” It was amazing how much Hijikata could narrow his eyes and, presumably, still see his target. He closed his hand on her wrist, and marched her in after him. Somehow it imparted a strange sense of belonging, as though she was an errant soldier rather than a suffered guest. “Oh well. Not gonna explain to Kodo-san how I let you freeze to death in our own courtyard.”

“I would’ve been fine. I was just coming back.” 

*

Of course, she left again, soon after their earlier exchange. Because when was Hijikata’s life ever calm and predictable? 

It happened when Hijikata was contemplating all the ways in which this whiteout could be disastrous. Some of the captains were in the compound and unlikely to be in harm’s way. But Saito and Shinpachi were both out on patrol, which meant that entire divisions could turn blue and freeze where they stood. Harada and Heisuke had slipped out to the red light district and, though Hijikata was pissed at them, it was hard to think they did this on purpose. Yes, it had been cloudy all day, but it had also been cloudy all _week_. Maybe he could have predicted this storm while still immersed in the farming routines of his family, but some of that knowledge had clearly faded. If he couldn’t have anticipated this, then there was no way Heisuke or Harada could have done so. 

_They’re in for a lecture later, though._

As for Saito and Shinpachi, he had to trust in their intelligence, and their ability to lead their troops. Both men were highly adept in high-stakes situations. They knew that battle involved fighting the elements as much as it involved fighting men. And Hijikata knew that sending out search parties was a really _bad_ way to bring them back, and a really _good_ way to put more of the Shinsengumi in danger. 

So he waited. He waited, ground his teeth, and soon developed one hell of a headache.

This had all the tedium of waiting for combat to start, and none of the usual tasks to occupy his mind. He opted to answer the Shinsengumi’s correspondence, and he finished those duties sooner than he would have liked. His brush strokes almost ran into one another, tense and angry. He even considered going to Souji and unburdening himself (Kondou was out of the question.) The fact that _that_ seemed like a good idea- however briefly- made him realize just how desperate the situation had become. Earlier he had to order Souji to not do something stupid, like rushing out there to relocate the captains (Souji had snapped that he wasn’t a moron, of course he wouldn’t do such a thing.). As he spoke the words, Hijikata also knew he was ordering _himself_ not to do it. 

_Fuck. Maybe I should drink?_ At least he’d be warm. It would make him angry, too, of course. But anger had always been more palatable than the slow suffocation of apprehension. 

He heard Chizuru’s footsteps outside his door, and watched as her slight shadow glided past. Hijikata had witnessed her trying to sneak away before. He had, in fact, once chased her down and plucked her up by the collar, like she was a very large kitten. This was nothing like that, though. She was not attempting to conceal her footsteps, and she was holding onto two buckets. They banged against her thigh, though her clothing muffled it a little. A door opened, winter gales boomed on in, and then the door closed again.

Hijikata remembered- not for the first time- that her whole _life_ had become a waiting game. Months piling up on one another, turning into the better part of years. She had no way of knowing if her father was safe and neglectful, or dead in an unmarked grave somewhere. Did she think about it all the time? Did she live in fear all the time? Surely not. Surely the mind learned to cope, even in the most unusual situations.

Either way, it was interesting to discover that _someone_ had a specific task in mind. 

As soon as he set foot outside he regretted the decision. Snow piled into his eyes, blotting out the world. When he shoved it away, he saw that the sky was dark and overbearing. The color of dried blood. _Shinpachi and Saito know what they are doing. They’ll find their way back._ The mantra reached a fever pitch, shrieking as loud as the wind.

Chizuru was bundled into a nondescript cloak that concealed the colors of her indoor clothes. She still stood out in the white landscape. Hijikata thought of those unusual birds that never flew away in the winter, but perched in the desiccated branches of the trees. Spring-like hues in a hibernating world. 

“What the hell are you doing, kid?” He didn’t think she was in the process of running away. For better or worse, her needs were symbiotic with the Shinsengumi, even if he could not speak to her loyalties. “You rushing off to find them?” It didn’t seem like something she would do, but, by definition, people never surprised you until they did. 

“Oh, no. Not at all.” Chizuru’s smile was as reproachful as it got in his presence. Hijikata had the distinct impression she would have said _of **course** not_ to anyone else who asked the question. A part of him wished that she would. 

“Then what’s going on? You just swore to me you were going to stay inside.” He eyed the sleeves of her robe and wished he had thought to throw on his blue haori at least. Already he was aware that the skin on his face was thin, that it was no good at insulation. “You swore you had no interest in getting frostbite.”

“I’m… trying to make sure no one else does.” She held out one of her pails, and he saw that it was filled with snow. 

“How…?” 

“Warm water is best for stopping frostbite. When they come back I want to have some ready.” She bent down, and began filling the other bucket with the stuff. “If the snow is going to make our lives difficult, I might as well turn it into a resource.” As she talked, Hijikata began to see what she must be like in her normal life. He saw how she would behave if she had certainty and purpose. 

_I wish I could give that to you more often, Yukimura._

“I guess I’ll go start a fire for you, then.” 

Chizuru looked up at him again. She had even covered her hands, he saw. She had not gone out into the storm unprepared. “That would be so helpful!” She said. “Are you sure you’re not too busy? I do know how to light it myself.” 

Hijikata knew that. He’d heard some of the captains quietly joking that they hoped Kodo stayed away for a little longer. Chizuru’s cooking was good, yes, but it was also the kind that made a person feel full and nourished. 

“Don’t worry about it. Takes no time at all,” he said, as though he hadn’t run out of things to do. 

The kitchen area was abandoned, gray and empty. So strange when it was often filled with banging pots, slicing knives, laughter and cursing (usually the cursing was from him, if he’d been roped into cooking). He brought a fire to life, grateful for a chance to use his hands and not his mind. A few minutes after he finished, Chizuru wandered on in. Her hands shook from the wait of the buckets, but she moved with purpose. She set her burden down, and eyed the flames critically. Then she nodded. 

“Good, we want it to be warm but not boiling. Thank you, Hijikata-san.”

In that moment, he reminded her of no one so much as Dr. Matsumoto. Calm and knowledgeable. It was strange to see, when she spent so much of her time with a bowed head and lips sealed with invisible thread. However, this was also the girl that had once stared down Souji. 

“I told you not to worry about it,” he said. They got one of the big bowls, and tossed the snow in it. It had already started to melt, and slushy particles soaked the corners of their sleeves. For a while they stood in silence, watching as water emerged. For some reason, the whole thing was reminiscent of two comrades gathering around a campfire.

“You seem to know a lot about frostbite,” Hijikata said. 

“I guess that’s because my father is a doctor.” This close to the fire, orange light danced across her skin and her eyes seemed darker than ever. Hijikata and Chizuru looked almost tangible in the water’s reflection. Like he could reach down into it, and pat her on the head. “Actually, one of the first patients of his that I remember got frostbite.” She stopped, and laced her fingers together in anxious patterns.

“He died,” Hijikata said, knowing that that was somehow the truth of the matter.

“Though not from the frostbite itself. He got it after insisting he was fine. When his family brought him to us, they said that one of his fingers had already started to rot. So he cut it off and he got an infection. And _that’s_ when he came to my father. There were red streaks all over his body and, well, you know…”

Hijikata made a non-verbal sound of assent. That would have been an unspoken death sentence.

“So my father had to make him comfortable, because that’s all I- all that he could do. After he paased away, I actually asked if I should make rice pudding for his wife. I thought that it made me feel better when I was sick or unhappy, so maybe it would make her feel better too. I was pretty foolish.” Chizuru put her hand in the pot full of water, then drew it back out. Droplets fell from fingers, and rippled on the liquid surface “Anyway, I don’t want anything like that to happen now. And this is probably not very reassuring to hear. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Good to have people around who know what they’re doing.” 

“I don’t know if I really know what I’m doing… But I’m glad to help” Chizuru was allergic to praise it would seem. But there was a small, warm smile on her face.

*

The sight of headquarters was so thoroughly welcome that Saito paused on the threshold in order to dwell in the moment. Snow collected in the roof’s ridges, exposing every undulating pattern. It seemed impassable and solid, and flakes stung his eyes making it a trial to look up. Despite its seeming durability, Saito could already picture the life cycle of this snow. Maybe it would freeze and stay, and wreathe his home in cold for days on end. But, eventually, the sun and air would be warm enough. The snow would melt, and it would slope off the sides of the roof. It would land on the ground, to nourish the dirt. It would soak into the roots of plants and trees, finding new expression in cherry blossoms. To stare at snow was to anticipate the advent of spring. 

“ _Saito_ , what are you doing?” When they had returned, Saito and Shinpachi had done a headcount as all their men rushed inside. Shinpachi had soon followed after them, but it would seem he had come back to collect Saito. 

“I am not doing anything in particular.” 

Shinpachi jumped and bypassed the steps entirely. “Then get inside and do nothing in there.” When the whiteout had begun, the two of them were fortunate in that their routes ended up crossing paths. They’d conferred and made the decision to stick together and wait it out. It was simply too easy to get lost, and it was better to keep track of everyone. The good luck had ended there, however. They were far from headquarters, and there was no one had offered them shelter. Saito had had a suspicion that people had watched them from windows, snickering at the sight of the Shinsengumi stuck in standstill. They had eventually taken cover under an awning. It couldn’t save them from the cold, but it could protect them from the snowfall. Saito had kept his eye on practical matters, while Shinpachi had focused on morale. Somehow, between the two of them, everyone emerged unscathed. And they’d probably use this incident for bragging rights in the future.

Now, Shinpachi watched Saito with an appraising look. During the storm’s siege (because it had felt a little like a siege) he’d joked about his own muscles more than usual. He’d made a couple of jests about Saito’s comparatively lean arms and abdomen, as well. They were the kind of witticisms that were compliments in disguise. Moreover, he’d clearly been doing it in order to ascertain whether Saito was falling ill. His body had less natural insulation than Shinpachi’s. Nevertheless, Saito had been fine and once he’d even joked back. He’d insinuated that Shinpachi had greater cause to worry, given his aversion to clothes that covered his chest. Shinpachi had stared in confusion, then thrown back his head in laughter. 

But Shinpachi had always been one of the best leaders, in Saito’s estimation. This was why so many of the men liked serving under him. 

“…”

“You wouldn’t believe what Chizuru is doing,” Shinpachi added. Yes, he was definitely staring at Saito’s fingers. Probably because he could see into his shoes and determine the state of his toes.

“Alright.”

Clearly, Shinpachi had mentioned Chizuru in order to get Saito to come inside. _How strange_. He would have returned anyway. He had no interest in freezing to death, of course. Once inside, Shinpachi’s motivations became even more obscure. Chizuru wasn’t doing anything more out of the ordinary than handing warm bowls of water to all the returned men. The troops spoke to her in their daily lives, but, in a minor crisis, it was natural enough to gravitate towards someone affecting a confident and calm attitude. 

When Shinpachi inched to close to the brazier, however, Chizuru rose her voice at him. It was the first time she had done so. Or, at least as far as Saito could recall.

“Don’t do that! If you have any sort of hypothermia that could burn your skin.”

“But I wasn’t close to it!”

“Listen to her, Shinpachi.” And here was the vice-commander, commanding and obdurate. But smiling, for all that. He must have been worried, and Saito felt a bit ashamed. It was unfortunate that there had been no way to send a message indicating that he and Shinpachi had been unharmed. 

Chizuru walked up to Saito, placing a warm bowl in his hands. A rag dangled from the edge. 

“You seem alright,” she said, assessing him quickly. “We were so worried about you two. I am so glad you are okay.”

When she said ‘we,’ there was no cause to wonder at her meaning. Her eyes kept darting towards Hijikata. Saito tried to picture the two of them conversing about him, and for a second or two he wanted to hide his face. 

Chizuru placed a hand to his forehead, her eyes gentleand considerate. “Yes, you are fine.” For a second or two, Saito wasn’t sure about that, after all. His ears were burning, But he decided that that was just because blood flowed through them again.


End file.
